


to the victor go the spoils

by suzukiblu



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Breeding Kink, Discussion of Abortion, Dragon/human sex, Fantasy, Fuck Or Suffer Unspecified Health Consequences, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Penetrative Sex, Pregnancy, dragon - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:55:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21809875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suzukiblu/pseuds/suzukiblu
Summary: The dragon arrived early in the morning, and by noon the entire village was in a panic in the town hall. No one in the village knew anything about dragons, aside from what they’d heard in fairy tales and stories, and the plans for dealing with it were about that level of sophisticated.“We’re not sacrificing a virgin to the dragon,” Viktor said in exasperation.“Well what wouldyoudo?!” the mayor demanded.“I’m going to go talk to it,” Viktor said reasonably, and got up from his seat and went to do just that.
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 128
Kudos: 2499





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dancinbutterfly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dancinbutterfly/gifts).



> Written for dancinbutterfly, who wanted dragon/human action in an ABO world with EMOTIONS.

The dragon arrived early in the morning, and by noon the entire village was in a panic in the town hall. No one in the village knew anything about dragons, aside from what they’d heard in fairy tales and stories, and the plans for dealing with it were about that level of sophisticated. 

“We’re not sacrificing a virgin to the dragon,” Viktor said in exasperation. 

“Well what would _you_ do?!” the mayor demanded. 

“I’m going to go talk to it,” Viktor said reasonably, and got up from his seat and went to do just that. 

.

.

.

Viktor was a plain-faced unmarried and childless omega with no designs on changing any of that, and nearly too old to bear children anyway. He did not make friends easily and kept them even less easily, had very decided opinions, and was the best blacksmith in the village, but not the only one. 

No one tried to stop him from going to talk to the dragon, was the point there. 

The dragon was out in the fields, picking off sheep one at a time. Viktor watched resignedly for a few minutes from a distance, figuring they’d be in a better mood if they were full. They weren’t as big as he would’ve expected a dragon to be—closer to the size of a particularly large draft horse than the anticipated magical monster. They were still certainly big enough to kill him, of course, and probably devour at least half of him. 

The dragon licked blood off their chops, then lazily jumped into the air and started to chase the surviving sheep to and fro in the field. None of them were happy about it. Viktor figured this was the best time to interrupt, since they just seemed to be messing around at this point, and picked his way down the hill. 

“Hello!” he called out. The dragon ignored him. “Excuse me!” The dragon swooped by overhead without a word on batlike wings, and the sheep fled in terror. It was a long, graceful thing, built—unsurprisingly—like a tremendous lizard, and its teeth and claws were massive and its scales were the brightest green Viktor might’ve ever seen. 

. . . dragons _could_ talk, couldn’t they? 

“You _can_ talk, can’t you?” he asked skeptically, and finally the dragon landed and gave him a withering look. He wasn’t entirely sure how he could tell it was a withering look, considering how completely inhuman a face it was on, but somehow he could. 

_Of course I can talk,_ the dragon said. Its eyes were golden. _What a stupid question._

“Oh,” Viktor said. In his defense, the dragon _hadn’t_ been talking. He looked up at the other. The dragon really was very large, especially with their wings spread. He’d been expecting bigger, yes, but still, Viktor didn’t think he’d ever seen a living creature that size. “About the sheep . . .” 

_They are delicious,_ the dragon said, licking their chops again. 

“They’re also expensive,” Viktor said. “Could you stop eating them, please?” 

The dragon looked at him in bafflement, then _laughed_. Viktor was used to being taken about that seriously, but sighed all the same. Apparently even dragons didn’t respect omegas, though admittedly the dragon might just not respect _humans_. 

“It was a serious question,” he said. “Look—I’m Viktor. What’s your name?” 

_A dragon needs no name,_ the dragon said dismissively, which was probably true. Viktor doubted they needed to introduce themselves very often. _"Victor", you say? So they've sent a champion to slay me?_

“What? No,” Viktor said, scowling at the thought. “I’m not a champion, I’m a blacksmith. I don’t _slay_ people.” 

_That is quite a name for not a champion to carry,_ the dragon said, an odd light glittering in their eyes. 

“It was my grandfather’s,” Viktor said. 

_Mm,_ the dragon said. _So you don’t slay “people”, you say. Not even people like me?_

“I don’t see how ‘I don’t slay people’ didn’t cover that,” Viktor said. 

_Those big strong arms can’t swing a sword?_ the dragon said. 

“If I wanted to lop off my own head, maybe,” Viktor said. “Listen, I wasn’t kidding about how expensive the sheep are. Can’t you eat, I don’t know, deer or something?” 

_I like sheep,_ the dragon said, getting to their feet to prowl a circle around him. Viktor did not relish the experience. 

“They’re _our_ sheep,” he said. The dragon laughed again, and prowled another circle around him. Viktor was probably about to get eaten, he realized. 

Well, he never had been very good at talking to people. 

_You know, traditionally I’m offered the loveliest virgin in the village,_ the dragon mentioned idly. Viktor gave them an annoyed look, folding his arms across his chest. _You’re a bit older than most, I must say._

“We are _not_ giving you a virgin,” Viktor said. He sure as hell wasn’t one, much less anyone’s idea of “lovely”. His skin was too rough and his hands were scarred from the forge, and he looked more like an alpha than an omega, big and broad instead of small and dainty—or so everyone had always told him, anyway. He’d certainly never gone to any special effort to be more omega-like. “What, not enough sheep?” 

_Maybe,_ the dragon said, looping their tail around him. Viktor stiffened, and waited to be bitten in half. The dragon didn’t, though, or at least not yet. _Perhaps I’ll just take you, if you are all your village has to offer. Perhaps then they’ll send a proper champion._

“They won’t,” Viktor said. He wasn’t that valuable to the village, and certainly not beloved enough. They’d get by fine with Johann’s slightly inferior smithing and consider themselves lucky. 

_We’ll see, won’t we_ the dragon said, then grabbed him in their enormous claws and leapt into the air. 

.

.

.

Flying, it turned out, was terrifying. 

.

.

.

The dragon didn’t fly for very long, fortunately; up the mountain a bit, but only a bit. They seemed to have picked out a cave there, and dropped Viktor at the mouth of it. He peered down the side of the mountain below and noticed that there was most definitely no way to get down without wings. He could see the village from here, but it was distant. A short flight could go very far, it seemed. 

“Please tell me there aren’t any bears in there,” he said, glancing back at the cave. He might rather be flying. 

_Not anymore,_ the dragon purred, settling down beside him and inspecting the mountain below with every sign of satisfaction. _A fine challenge for a champion. When they come for you, Victor, I shall devour them down to their bones._

“They won’t be coming for me,” Viktor said again. The dragon ignored him and headed into the cave. Viktor looked down the mountainside again, then followed them. He wasn’t really sure what else to do. The dragon would be eating him soon enough, he supposed, but for the time being he didn’t really feel like standing around uselessly waiting for it to happen. 

The inside of the cave was large and dark, unsurprisingly, but the dragon’s scales glittered even in the darkness. Viktor expected a hoard—dragons always had a hoard, didn’t they?—but found nothing but bones. Maybe it was farther back, he thought. 

“Not exactly what I would’ve pictured for a dragon’s lair,” he said. The dragon chuckled and moved deeper into the cave. Viktor still didn’t see any sign of a hoard, unless the bones counted. 

_Have you spent much time picturing dragon’s lairs?_ they said. 

“A bit,” Viktor said, looking around. A very vivid bit, the past few minutes he’d spent being carried off. It was just a normal cave, though, as far as he could tell. It looked just like the ones he’d used to explore as a child, except for the dragon in the back of it. “You need to sweep.” 

The dragon laughed, and passed their tail across the floor mockingly, sweeping dirt and dust onto Viktor’s boots. He sighed. 

This was going to be a very strange way to die, he thought. 

.

.

.

Sleeping on the floor of the cave was cold and miserable, and Viktor only managed it because of the exhaustion. He should be trying to escape, probably, but how could he? There was no way to get down the mountain without the dragon, and climbing higher wouldn’t do him any good. 

He wasn’t resigned, exactly, but it was unavoidable: he was going to die. The dragon would keep him around until they realized no one was coming for him, and then he’d meet the same fate as all those panicking sheep in the field and the unlucky bear who’d lived in this cave before. 

He’d at least like to die more like a bear than a sheep, he thought. He didn’t know what else he could do. 

Not that it mattered, he supposed. The dragon was going to be the only one to see the way he died. 

When he woke up, the dragon was gone, presumably to eat more sheep or maybe another bear. Viktor was starving himself, so figured that made sense. Probably dragons did not feed their sacrifices, though, so he went looking through the cave in pursuit of . . . _something_. A hidden path, something to eat; maybe just something to _do_. He found some mushrooms, but had no idea if they were edible or not; he’d never been all that woodsy. Otherwise he turned up dust and dirt and rocks, and not much else of note. 

The least the dragon could’ve done was leave him something to _do_. 

Waiting to die was incredibly boring, actually, and Viktor spent most of the afternoon trying to figure out if maybe he could get down the mountain alone after all. He considered trying it once or twice, but he didn’t want to fall and break anything, much less die any earlier than he was already going to. Probably a bear would’ve tried to make the climb, but bears were much better climbers than humans. Obviously, since one had gotten up here to begin with. 

The dragon returned in the early evening, by which point Viktor was so bored he was actually glad to see it. He was used to keeping busy, and being idle like this was borderline torment. 

“Are you trying to starve me to death or bore me to death?” he asked the dragon. 

_Ah yes, that infamous human patience,_ the dragon said, settling in quite contentedly amongst the rocks. _It’s hardly been a day, what are you so hungry for, Victor?_

“Humans eat multiple times a day,” Viktor informed them. “And humans _do_ things with their day.” 

_Nothing particularly important, in my experience,_ the dragon said. Viktor sighed. Well, it wasn’t like he’d expected sympathy. 

“There isn’t even any water here,” he said. The dragon looked at him blankly. It occurred to Viktor that a dragon would have no reason to know what a human needed to stay alive, which was probably going to be a problem for him. “I _need_ water. Don’t dragons have to drink?” 

_Of course we do,_ the dragon scoffed. 

“So it didn’t occur to you that a human would too, or . . . ?” Viktor trailed off meaningfully, resting his chin in his hand. The dragon scowled at him. 

_You’re a very difficult sacrifice, you know,_ they said. _A proper one would be properly deferential._

“I’m properly starving,” Viktor replied frankly. The dragon huffed, then got to its feet. 

_If only so you’ll stop WHINING,_ they said witheringly, and took off into the sky. Viktor watched them go. There was something sort of lovely about watching them fly, if one ignored the part where they were a man-eating monster and presumably on their way to kill something. 

But only if one ignored that part, of course. 

.

.

.

The dragon returned with a dead deer, eventually, and seemed to expect Viktor to eat it raw. Viktor wanted to actually be able to keep his dinner down, so did his best to collect what little wood was available in the area and try to get a fire going. 

_I thought you were hungry,_ the dragon said. 

“Starving,” Viktor agreed, sticking some dead grass in the little pile of wood he’d gathered. “Do dragons actually breathe fire, or is that just a story?” 

_Of course we do,_ the dragon said haughtily. _Dragons can do things no pitiful human story could even DREAM of._

“Great,” Viktor said, and leaned back from his carefully constructed pile. “Don’t suppose you could set this on fire, then? Just a bit, mind—I need a fire, not ashes.” 

_Is this a human thing?_ the dragon said, clearly mystified. 

“Definitely. I need it to eat,” Viktor said, trying to figure out if he’d be able to set up a spit or would need to figure out a different way to roast the deer. The dragon looked annoyed. 

_Human things make no sense,_ they said, but then blew fire at the wood after all. They nearly scorched Viktor in the process, but he considered it a victory all the same. 

“Thanks,” he said. 

_When your village’s champion comes for you, I will cook them in their armor just the same,_ the dragon said. 

“No one’s coming for me,” Viktor reminded them, and got to setting up the spit. The dragon just snorted. 

.

.

.

Viktor ate himself practically sick on deer, then spent another miserable night on the cave floor. There wasn’t very much wood, so he couldn’t keep the fire going. Maybe higher up the mountain there might be some, he thought; he’d have to check in the morning. 

By the time he woke up, the dragon was gone again, though there was another dead deer laying at the mouth of the cave. This one had clearly had fire breathed at it, and was fairly well-cooked. Viktor considered it another small victory. 

After breakfast, he climbed up above the cave in the hopes of finding wood and water. It wasn’t so sheer as the cliff below, and he managed fairly well, but it was still stressful. He’d avoided doing it yesterday because he’d been more worried about getting _down_ , but clearly that wasn’t happening. 

After some struggle, he made his way through the rocks and scratchy underbrush to find, mercifully, a mountain spring with a few scrubby trees surrounding it. He drank his fill and took a very cold bath, then started trying to figure out how he could get enough wood for a fire with no axe to speak of and no safe way to carry it down—all he had on him were the clothes on his back and his grandfather’s hunting knife, and that was unlikely to be useful here. 

That was where the dragon found him. 

_What on earth are you doing?_ the dragon said. 

“Human things,” Viktor said. “Are you going to kill me yet?” 

_I would rather fight your village champion,_ the dragon said. _I do so enjoy a proper fight._

“I told you, no one’s coming for me,” Viktor said, dragging some of the heavier branches he’d managed to break off towards the edge of the small cliff he’d climbed to get up here. He could throw them down to the cave, probably, as long as he was careful about how he aimed. 

_Of course someone will come,_ the dragon scoffed. _Someone always comes._

“I’m not that valuable,” Viktor said dismissively, dropping one of the branches over the side and peering down after it. Mercifully, it landed in front of the cave. “I’ll be forty in another two winters.” 

_. . . and?_ the dragon said, clearly bemused. 

“That’s old, for an unmarried omega,” Viktor said, gesturing at the bits of gray peppering his dark hair. “Wouldn’t get very many children out of me even if I _did_ get married. And I don’t have any friends, so . . .” He shrugged, and threw down more of the wood. 

_I don’t understand,_ the dragon said, and honestly sounded like they didn’t. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Viktor told them, and started climbing back down. He wasn’t, personally. 

.

.

.

The dragon waited three days, in the end. 

_Where is their champion?!_ they demanded furiously, stalking back and forth in front of the cave. Viktor watched them pace, aware that his borrowed time had run out but at the same time oddly entertained by the sight. Even a dragon could get impatient, it seemed. _I could’ve eaten you by now! Several times over!_

“I _told_ you,” Viktor said reasonably. He was putting together a little firepit with a few of the stones from the cave. He didn’t really need one, obviously; it’d just seemed tidier once the idea had occurred to him. It was pointless to keep putting it together now, but he’d already started, so . . . 

_They always send a champion!_ the dragon fumed. _When has a village ever NOT sent a champion?!_

“I feel like that probably happens more often than you’re letting on,” Viktor said, carefully adjusting one of the stones around his firepit. The mayor _had_ been considering a virgin sacrifice. That wasn’t exactly a “send a champion” kind of plan, and that’d been _before_ it’d been him the dragon had taken. 

_It NEVER happens!_ the dragon said accusingly. _What’s wrong with you, that they wouldn’t come?!_

“Unmarried, no children, no friends,” Viktor reminded him. He adjusted another one of the stones. “People tell me I’m difficult, whatever that means.” 

_You ARE difficult,_ the dragon said. 

“I just said so, didn’t I?” Viktor said. He decided to put another row of stones around the firepit. “I also told you no one was coming, if you’ll remember.” 

_You’ve SAID, yes!_ the dragon said crossly, pacing across his field of vision again and breathing steam. _How are they NOT coming. You’re one of them, aren’t you?_

“Do you really want me to explain it again?” Viktor asked with a sigh, resting his chin in his hand. He didn’t like repeating himself _that_ much. 

_They’re supposed to COME!_ the dragon fumed, stomping the ground and cracking the stone. Viktor would’ve been impressed, but he supposed that kind of thing was expected for a dragon. 

“Well, they’re not,” he said. 

The dragon breathed steam again, their tail lashing angrily behind them as they drew themselves upright. Viktor expected either cooked or bitten in half, but the dragon didn’t do either. 

_What is WRONG with your village?_ the dragon demanded. Viktor blinked, slowly. 

“Nothing,” he said. “I’m just not that valuable to anyone there. Can’t say I’d get myself killed for most of them either, so . . .” 

_You came to me to begin with,_ the dragon said. _What, exactly, made you think that wouldn’t involve getting yourself killed?_

“I don’t know,” Viktor said. “We didn’t really know anything about you.” 

_Dragons eat humans,_ the dragon said. _Everyone knows that._

“‘Everyone’ knows a lot of things,” Viktor said with a shrug. “That doesn’t always make them right.” 

The dragon stared at him. He looked back at it. 

_You are impossible,_ the dragon said. Viktor frowned. He didn’t think he was saying anything difficult. 

Then again, he usually didn’t, and other people still thought he was. 

“Sorry you didn’t get your fight,” he said. 

_You are the strangest creature I have ever met, Victor,_ the dragon said, and then dropped off the cliff and swooped off into the sky. Viktor watched them go, wondering how much longer he had to live. 

.

.

.

The dragon didn’t come back, at least not for the first day. Viktor spent the time finishing his firepit, collecting wood he probably wouldn’t need, and taking a bath. There was nothing to actually cook and he didn’t know how to start a fire without a convenient dragon or tinderbox to hand, so he went hungry and cold, but he was getting fairly used to that. The dragon really had no idea how to take care of a human. 

He had no idea why they hadn’t killed him outright, but assumed he’d be starving to death soon enough. He knew nothing about hunting and very few edible plants, none of which seemed to be growing among the mountain’s scrubby underbrush, so it was really just a matter of time. 

It wasn’t like the dragon was going to come _back_ , after all. 

.

.

.

Then the dragon came back. 

.

.

.

“What the hell?” Viktor said as he came out of the cave and nearly tripped over a dead and thoroughly cooked elk. The dragon was perched on the edge of the cliff, looking peeved. 

_Eat,_ they said. 

“I can’t eat an entire elk,” Viktor said. He hadn’t even been able to eat the entire _deer_ ; he had no idea why the dragon had bothered hunting down an elk. 

_Then eat what you can, obviously,_ the dragon said, still looking peeved. Their tail was lashing. _And be quick about it, we haven’t got all day._

“What, do we have an appointment?” Viktor said. 

_We have places to be,_ the dragon said. 

_“. . . where?”_

The dragon huffed and turned away. Viktor figured that was the best he was getting out of them, and went to harvesting a decent cut of meat from the elk’s side. He really was lucky he’d had his grandfather’s knife on him when the dragon had taken him. He rarely ever used the thing, carrying it more out of sentimentality than anything else, but it’d been coming in handy the past few days. 

Viktor ate, and the dragon waited impatiently for him to finish. Viktor really didn’t see what could possibly be that time-sensitive, but avoided dawdling anyway. Making the dragon wait was probably not the best idea. 

He _really_ didn’t see what could possibly be that time-sensitive, though. Also, this probably meant more flying, which sounded like a horrible time. 

Viktor finished eating, resignedly, and the dragon scooped him off the ground and took off. Viktor decided keeping his eyes closed was the better part of valor, but it only helped so much. Being suspended much higher above the ground than he wanted to think about did not get less upsetting when you weren’t looking, because then you had to _imagine_ how high up you were and, well, Viktor’s imagination was happy to supply all the worst-case scenarios. 

Alternately, he could look, and know for a _fact_ how high above the ground he was. 

He kept his eyes closed. 

It was a very long flight. 

.

.

.

The dragon deposited Viktor on solid ground, and VIktor opened his eyes to find himself standing, of all places, outside of a house. A very _large_ house, in fact—much larger than any he’d seen before. It was stone, and looked very old and very empty. At least, no one had been taking care of it for a while. 

“What the hell?” he said. 

_Go in,_ the dragon said insistently. Viktor did, too bemused to protest. Inside the house seemed even bigger, partially because the rooms appeared to all be completely empty and partially because it was, in fact, big enough that the dragon could follow him in. 

“Did you eat someone?” Viktor said. 

_Yes,_ the dragon said. _But not here. No one lives here._

“Then why are _we_ here?” Viktor asked. The dragon ignored him, and strode past him to the wide stone stairs, picking their way up them delicately. Viktor looked back towards the front door for a moment, and then followed them, for lack of a better idea. It wasn’t like he’d get far if he tried to run away. 

The house really was enormous. Viktor had no idea who’d leave a place this size to rot like this. There was old, ruined furniture in a few of the rooms, but overall, the place was empty and dusty and clearly long unloved—he couldn’t smell a single person anywhere in the place. 

_Well?_ the dragon asked. 

“It’s big,” Viktor said. The dragon preened. 

_It is the BIGGEST,_ they agreed, and then without further preamble, they went back downstairs and left. Viktor watched them fly away out one of the upstairs windows, baffled. He had no idea what the _point_ of this was. 

He looked around until he found a broom in the kitchen, and then started sweeping away the dust and cobwebs. 

He might as well, he supposed. 

.

.

.

The house was high on a cliff, surrounded on most sides by the biggest lake Viktor had ever seen, one so vast he couldn’t even see what laid on the other side, and on the last side by miles and miles of meadow that Viktor could also not see the end of. There was a well and a stable and a dead garden out back, and wildflowers growing in the cracks in the foundation. 

It was lovely, actually, though Viktor continued to have no idea what he was doing here. 

The dragon returned around dusk, carrying a freshly-killed deer. Viktor dragged it into the kitchen and found a tinderbox in the near-empty pantry, then lit the oven with it and cooked himself some dinner. The dragon ate the rest of the deer, then spent the time Viktor’s share was cooking draped along the very large counter in the center of the room, taking up quite a lot of space. Their tail was on the floor. 

They seemed to be smug about something. 

“What’s got you so pleased?” Viktor asked suspiciously. 

_Nothing, Victor,_ the dragon said. Viktor could just _hear_ the “c” in his name. _How is your deer?_

“Fine,” Viktor said, because he was getting sick of deer but at least it was something. “I mean, it’s not seasoned or anything, but beggars can’t be choosers and all.” 

_Seasoned?_ The dragon wrinkled its nose. Viktor supposed dragons didn’t bother with seasoning, unless char counted. 

“Human thing,” he said with a shrug. “It makes food taste better.” 

_Seasoned,_ the dragon repeated, sounding mystified. 

“How did you find this place?” Viktor asked, figuring the “why” wasn’t getting anymore answered than last time. 

_It was easy,_ the dragon said dismissively. _It’s much better than your old den, yes? All the dens in your village were so SMALL._

“It’s bigger, definitely,” Viktor said. Although—“My old den had a bed, though. And a lot more to do. Books and things, you know?” 

The dragon looked cross. 

_Ungrateful,_ they said, which was the first time Viktor realized the dragon was trying to _please_ him. 

He blinked, and tilted his head. The dragon stepped down from the counter, visibly annoyed, and left the kitchen. Viktor considered following them, but . . . 

Well. He wasn’t sure what, precisely, kept him from following them. 

He ate the rest of his deer, and by the time he was done, the dragon was gone. 

.

.

.

Viktor slept on the kitchen floor, and woke up late the next morning with a crick in his neck. He was really too old to be sleeping on the floor, but it was better than the cave had been. At least the kitchen he’d been able to keep fairly warm; there was plenty of firewood out back. 

He really needed to figure out some kind of bed situation, though, since the dragon didn’t appear to want to kill him yet. He had no idea why the other was keeping him around—if they didn’t want to kill him, why wouldn’t they just let him go?—but clearly it was happening, so he was going to have to deal with it. 

The house was less of a trap than the cave had been, obviously, but Viktor still had no idea where any other people might be or how to make his way to them. He supposed he could just cross the fields and keep walking until he found some sign of other humans, but it looked to be a long, long walk. From the highest window of the house he could see distant trees, but running away into a forest would bring up its own set of problems. 

He sighed, and fed the guttering embers of the fire in the oven, and then headed out to the main room to—

He blinked. 

Blinked again. 

The messy pile of mattresses in the middle of the parlor did not disappear, nor did they start making sense. 

He walked over to them, mystified, and found, along with the mattresses, several lightly-clawed blankets and two crates, one full of various books and one full of kitchen supplies—flour and sugar and bowls and knives and all sorts of other useful things, as well as no shortage of seasonings. 

What. 

What? 

.

.

.

The dragon was outside, sunning themselves in the courtyard. Viktor approached them, still mystified and not really sure what to say. 

“Why don’t you have a hoard?” he asked, instead of saying something useful. The dragon gave him a blank look. “Dragons _do_ have hoards, don’t they?” 

_Of course,_ the dragon said. _I shall have a fine hoard, one day. The finest of any!_

“But you don’t have one now,” Viktor said. 

_So?_ the dragon said. 

“I just thought all dragons did,” Viktor said. The dragon gave him an unimpressed look and got to their feet. 

_I just said that I will,_ they said impatiently. Viktor wondered how an ancient creature of magic and myth could get _impatient_ so easily. 

“You did,” he agreed, and then it occurred to him to ask: “How old are you? For a dragon, I mean.” 

_Old enough to fight champions,_ the dragon said. _And soon I will build a lovely hoard with the grandest of treasures, and grow ever more fearsome and powerful._

“You’re a _kid_ ,” Viktor realized. The dragon made an offended sound. 

_I am NOT!_ they said. _Do I look like a hatchling to you?_

“I don’t know what a hatchling looks like,” Viktor said. 

_Not like me!_ the dragon said huffily. _I am GROWN._

“How recently?” Viktor asked warily. The dragon made a face at him, which answered _that_ question. “Oh my God, I’ve been sacrificed to a teenager.” 

_I don’t even know what that IS,_ the dragon said in exasperation, tail swishing back and forth. _I am not a “teen-ager”. I am old enough to have a hoard of my own, and nest where I please, and take a mate and raise a clutch, if I so desire._

“You just said you don’t even know what a teenager is,” Viktor said, and the dragon made a face at him again. 

_I am grown,_ they repeated. _I am certainly older than YOU. Not even forty! I was barely out of the NEST at forty!_

“Forty is getting up there, for a human,” Viktor said. “How old do dragons get?” 

_As old as we like,_ the dragon said smugly, which definitely skewed the numbers there. Still. 

“Gods,” Viktor said. Of course he’d get kidnapped by a dragon that was—arguably—half his age. Of _course_. What was he even supposed to _do_ with that? “If you’re old enough for a hoard and a mate, why don’t you have one?” 

_Asks the unmated omega,_ the dragon said dryly, and VIktor flushed in embarrassment. _I will mate when I wish to mate. I am a dragon, after all. I have all the time in the world._

“I guess so,” Viktor said. Dragons had a lot more time to meet someone they were compatible with, he supposed. 

_Why don’t YOU have a mate?_ the dragon said. _Obviously you would lack a hoard, humans are too foolish to see the splendor of those, but you have had long enough to choose a mate, yes?_

“I just don’t,” Viktor said, embarrassed again. Why had he brought this up? He should know better. “I’m not exactly desirable, and I don’t get along with other people well enough to make up for that.” 

_You certainly don’t,_ the dragon agreed. Viktor folded his arms, frowning at the other. He’d said it himself, the dragon didn’t need to rub it _in_. He’d lived long enough to know perfectly well what he was like, and he was _fine_ with what he was like. He’d be different, if he weren’t. 

“Where did you get the kitchen things?” he asked finally. “And the books?” 

_I asked for them,_ the dragon said dismissively. 

“Asked _who_?” 

_Does it matter?_

“If you _ate_ them, yes.” 

_I did not,_ the dragon said, pacing a circle around him. Viktor turned to follow them. _I was full._

Viktor wasn’t sure if that was a relief to hear or not. Since the dragon didn’t bother clarifying what they’d been full _of_ , he decided it wasn’t. 

“Why are you getting me things?” he said. “I thought you were going to kill me.” 

_I kill what I want to kill. Nothing more,_ the dragon said, eyes flashing in annoyance. Viktor couldn’t figure out what was annoying them. 

“You’re _definitely_ not going to get a champion coming after me out here, you realize,” he said. Not that one ever would, as had been well-established by this point, but he really didn’t understand the logic the dragon was operating on here. 

_Champions are a dime a dozen,_ the dragon said, eyes glittering. _Victors I do not meet so many of._

“I’m a _blacksmith_ ,” Viktor reminded them. Not anyone interesting; certainly not someone to interest a _dragon_ , even one that made as little sense as this one. 

_One that does not slay people,_ the dragon said as if they were agreeing. Viktor understood them even less. 

He wanted to go home. Not because he especially missed it, honestly, but because it was _his_ and he knew how things worked there, and it was simple. The dragon—the dragon was not. 

Viktor didn’t think he’d ever met anyone so complicated in his life. 

.

.

.

Viktor took the mattresses into the kitchen and made a bed in the corner. He put the books beside them and unpacked the kitchen supplies into the pantry. He continued not to understand why the dragon was trying to please him or why the dragon found him interesting. 

He wasn’t interesting. He was quite happy _not_ being interesting, in fact. Not being interesting had served him perfectly well in life so far, up until the dragon. 

He could’ve chosen a bedroom, but keeping just the kitchen warm seemed easier. And it was already _enormous_ , frankly; it wasn’t like he needed more space than that. He didn’t exactly have any possessions to fill it up, unless the books counted. 

Viktor sat down on the bed and went through the books. They seemed to be mostly fiction, though he didn’t recognize any of them. The dragon had managed a fairly good haul, however they’d managed it. He picked out one of the more interesting-looking ones and spent the rest of the day sitting on the mattress and reading it. 

Eventually the dragon dragged a deer into the kitchen and then he had to make dinner, but he hid behind the book as he did. He didn’t really know what to say to them anyway. 

It was . . . confusing. 

Lots of things about the dragon were confusing. 

Viktor slept like a rock on the mattresses, and woke up fully rested and with no crick in his neck or chill or new bruises. 

He wondered where the dragon slept, if they even slept at all. 

.

.

.

Viktor got up and went out back to the garden. He didn’t have a particular talent for gardening, but he’d managed to grow a few vegetables in his time; he figured he could get it in respectable shape if he tried. The dragon might eat him before he managed to grow anything, but at least it’d give him something to do in the meantime. 

The dragon was on the roof, apparently sunning themselves again. Viktor ignored them in favor of searching for gardening equipment, and found a hoe and a shovel abandoned in the stable. 

Well, it was a start. 

He spent the day tearing out weeds and dead plants and thorns, because he couldn’t spend it at a forge, and made plans for what else he could do in the house. He could make bread, probably, and maybe get a stew going; he had the supplies now. It’d lack vegetables, but he’d live. Maybe the dragon would get him seeds if he asked. 

He huffed out a laugh at the thought and tore out another row of thorns. He was grateful for his callouses, but would’ve preferred gloves. 

Eventually, he realized the dragon was watching him. 

“What?” he called up to the other. The dragon tilted their head, then stepped off the roof, glided down to the courtyard, and slunk over. 

_What are you doing?_ they asked. 

“It’s a garden,” Viktor said. “I’m fixing it up.” 

_Is this a human thing?_ the dragon asked, and Viktor sighed. 

“Yes,” he said. “I don’t suppose you can get me seeds? Maybe some vegetables? Humans need to eat things besides meat. I don’t want goddamn scurvy.” 

_“Scurvy”?_ the dragon repeated, wrinkling their nose. 

“Also a human thing,” Viktor said, hacking at another thorn bush with the hoe. “Not a fun one, for the record. I need oranges.” 

_Oranges,_ the dragon said, sounding unconvinced. 

“Yes.” Viktor dragged the remains of the thorn bush away. Maybe he’d burn it later. There was only so much wood out back, and he had no idea where to get more besides the distant forest, and no axe to be getting it with. “Fruit in general. Apples keep.” 

_Keep what?_ the dragon said. 

“From rotting.” Viktor attacked the next thorn bush, which was particularly stubborn. “Ugh. Can you get a claw in here?” 

_You want me to dig up your thorn bushes for you,_ the dragon said. 

“Yes,” Viktor said, not seeing a point in hemming and hawing about it. The dragon was a lot stronger than an old hoe. 

The dragon snorted, but stepped forward and dragged the bush out of the ground. 

“Thanks,” Viktor said. The dragon looked mollified, and settled back on their haunches. 

_You are a strange creature, Victor,_ they said, like they had any room to talk. 

“Like you have any room to talk,” Viktor said, because he never _had_ been able to keep his damn mouth shut. 

The dragon laughed. Viktor was so startled he nearly hit his own foot with the hoe. 

.

.

.

Unsurprisingly, there was a barrel of apples and a crate of assorted seeds and vegetables in the parlor in the morning. 

Viktor just hoped no one had gotten eaten for them. 

.

.

.

It took a while, but the house started shaping up pretty well. Viktor got it respectably clean, and got the kitchen set up nice, and got the garden nearly presentable and at least functional. He ate a lot of deer, and got a lot of practice with the hoe. 

He continued to have no idea why he wasn’t dead. The dragon continued not to explain. 

“I still don’t understand why you think I’m interesting enough not to kill,” he said one evening while he was busy trying to put together a venison stew with his limited ingredients. The dragon was also taking up almost the entire kitchen counter, which did not help. “Is that a temporary thing? I’m assuming that’s a temporary thing.” 

The dragon blinked lazily at him. For a moment, he didn’t expect a response, but . . . 

_A creature like you is a treasure, Victor,_ the dragon said. _Your village is full of fools, to not recognize that._

“Ah,” Viktor said. 

It still didn’t make any sense to him. 

.

.

.

Weeks passed. The garden grew, the house started to fill up with whatever the dragon saw fit to bring to it, and Viktor started to get antsy. He’d lost track of the days a bit, what with the whole kidnapping and expecting to die, but he knew his heat was due soon—he’d caught himself nesting the other day, which did not bode well. The dragon could get just about anything he asked for, but a heat partner? Not so much, Viktor was thinking. 

Well, they probably _could_ , but he didn’t want to encourage kidnapping. 

“I need to go into town somewhere,” he said to the dragon that night. The dragon looked offended. 

_Why?_ they asked. _Don’t I give you everything you need?_

That was . . . a _whole_ statement, wasn’t it. Viktor decided to gloss over it, for his own good. 

“I’m going into heat soon,” he said. “I need a partner.” 

_I thought you were too old to whelp,_ the dragon said, looking puzzled. 

“Not quite,” Viktor said. The dragon frowned, or did the draconic equivalent of it. Viktor still didn’t know how they were so easy to read with such an alien face. 

_And you must go to a town for this?_ they said skeptically, tail lashing restlessly. 

“Unless you happen to have a knot, yes,” Viktor said dryly. 

_I could,_ the dragon said. Viktor . . . blinked. He thought about following up on that, but just . . . no. Not right now, anyway. Whatever the dragon was talking about, that could be a later problem. 

“I need a town,” he said firmly. The dragon’s frown deepened. 

_Your village did not appreciate you,_ they said. _Why would they soothe your heat?_

“You really don’t understand how humans work,” Viktor said. “Anyway, it doesn’t have to be _my_ village, anyplace with humans will do.” 

_You are a treasure,_ the dragon said. _Humans never appreciate treasure when they have it._

“Be that as it may, I still need one,” Viktor said, mystified by that entire . . . whatever the hell the dragon was talking about. And now they were calling him “treasure” again, too. 

_What foolishness,_ the dragon said with a sigh, tail lashing again. _Fine. I will find a place with humans for you, treasure._

“Thank you,” Viktor said. 

_Such graciousness from the ungrateful!_ the dragon said in mock surprise. 

“Yes, dear,” Viktor said dryly. 

_‘DEAR’?_ the dragon said, looking offended. 

“You don’t have a name,” Viktor says. “I might as well call you _something_. 

_And you chose ‘DEAR’,_ the dragon said. 

“Yes,” Viktor said. Like the dragon had room to talk. They’d just called him _treasure_ , and before that it’d been “victor”. The dragon made an incredulous noise and shook their head, then got to their feet and spread their massive wings. 

_Call me what you like,_ they said dismissively, then leapt into the air and took off. The beating of their wings nearly knocked Viktor over. They didn’t scoop him up, at least, which was some mercy. Although he supposed he’d signed himself up for that already, hadn’t he. 

The dragon disappeared into the night sky, and Viktor watched them go. 

He wondered if the dragon would let him go after this. 

He wondered where he’d go if they did. 

.

.

.

The dragon returned the next morning in the middle of breakfast, looking peeved. Viktor chewed over the last of his food, just watching the other pace in the courtyard outside. He didn’t really understand the mood. Maybe somebody else had refused to sacrifice a virgin to it. 

He finished up with breakfast, washed the dishes, and headed out to the courtyard, where the dragon fixed him with an accusing look. 

_I found humans,_ they said. 

“I’d hope so,” Viktor said. The fact it’d taken them all night was concerning enough. How far away from other people _were_ they? And who the hell had actually built a _house_ this far from other people? That made no sense at all. “Will you take me to them?” 

_No, I found them just for FUN,_ the dragon said crossly. _Of course I will take you. Even if humans do not appreciate treasure. You are human yourself, of course you wouldn’t know better._

“I guess not,” Viktor said, frowning faintly at them. He still didn’t understand why they were so— _cranky_ , really, was the only word he could think of. He would not previously have assumed a cranky dragon was survivable, but apparently they were. 

The dragon huffed, then scooped him up and took off. Viktor squeezed his eyes shut. This wasn’t the first time they’d done this, no, but he still didn’t want to know how high up they were. The whipping wind and absolute silence aside from the beating of the dragon’s wings was bad enough. 

At least the dragon wasn’t going to make him ride out his heat alone in a strange house with secondhand nesting material. He’d been more than a little worried about that. 

They flew for a very long time—long enough that Viktor was sore and exhausted by the end of it—but finally the dragon landed and let Viktor down, and Viktor’s legs wobbled underneath him and nearly gave out. 

_Here we are, foolish treasure,_ the dragon said. Viktor looked around. They were on top of a large hill in a wooded area, but through the trees he could see glimpses of a town down below. It looked bigger than his village, so hopefully no one would think too much of a stranger coming through looking for a heat partner. 

“Okay,” he said. “Good. Great. Thank you.” 

_Yes, yes,_ the dragon said, looking irritated. _There you go, all the humans you could ever want. Do as you like with them, Victor._

“That’s the plan, dear,” Viktor said, and the dragon made a face at him. Maybe the dragon was just going to leave him here, he thought. Or maybe they were going to lurk around town eating all the sheep until he was done. He didn’t really know which to expect. 

He might’ve asked, but he didn’t want to give the dragon any ideas. 

Viktor took a breath, then headed forward through the trees and down the hill. The dragon didn’t follow. He picked his way down the hill, careful not to trip on any of the mast and broken branches, and spent most of the journey doing his best to not think very hard about what the dragon was going to expect after his heat was over. There wasn’t any reason they’d expect him to come back, was there? There certainly wasn’t any reason they’d _want_ him back. 

He’d never even fit in in his own village. Certainly a dragon wasn’t going to think any differently. 

Besides—what would he even do out there, all alone except for the dragon? 

.

.

.

The town was deserted. Viktor had no idea what to think. There was smoke coming out of the chimneys, and fresh bread in the bakery, and animals here and there, so where were all the people? 

He paused, and remembered the dragon. Grimacing, he went to the center of town. 

The town hall was _overflowing_ with people, all of them stinking of stress and fear. 

Okay. Maybe they should’ve landed a bit farther away. 

Viktor sighed, and headed into the press of the crowd. A few people looked at him strangely, but no one said anything to him. He could hear voices shouting from inside the town hall. 

“A dragon! What can we _possibly_ do about a dragon?!” 

“ _Something_ , surely, besides wait to be burned in our beds!” 

“We’re all going to die!” 

“Excuse me,” Viktor said. 

“Be calm, man—” 

“Calm?! It’s a _dragon_!” 

“Excuse me,” Viktor repeated, raising his voice a little. 

“I’m not _blind_ —” 

“We need to send a champion!” 

“We need to find a _sacrifice_!” 

“EXCUSE ME,” Viktor said loudly, raising a hand. A few people turned to look at him, looking suspicious or baffled. “Sorry. The dragon’s not here to eat anyone.” 

“And how would _you_ know that, stranger?” a man at the front demanded suspiciously. He was wearing what looked to be a chain of office, so Viktor assumed he was supposed to be important. 

“They just dropped me off,” Viktor said with a sigh. Well, this was embarrassing. Nothing like being surrounded and stared at by a bunch of strangers while five minutes out from heat. 

“What?” the man in the chain of office said in bemusement. 

“They dropped me off,” Viktor repeated. “I needed to go into town.” 

“You— _what_?” The man looked baffled. “Why would a _dragon_ do something like that?” 

“I have no idea,” Viktor said resignedly. “Dragons are confusing. But if they’re going to eat anyone, it’ll probably be me anyway.” 

“He’s _with_ the beast!” someone cried in horror, and things went downhill from there. 

.

.

.

Viktor thumped his head back against the cold wall of his cell and deeply, deeply regretted attempting to be truthful with the town. Absolutely nothing he’d said had stopped the town guards from locking him up or the townsfolk from cursing and screaming at him, and he was fairly certain they were going to kill him in the morning. At least, quite a lot of them certainly _wanted_ to. They thought he was some kind of . . . he didn’t know, a _scout_ or something for the dragon. 

He didn’t really understand the logic of killing a dragon’s scout, since it seemed like it’d just annoy the dragon, but the guards had not been convinced by that logic. So far his logic did not seem to be the kind that this town appreciated. 

His skin was too warm, and he skittered his fingers along it restlessly. He’d be in full heat soon enough, which sounded like hell. No one was going to soothe his heat for him while he was locked up like this. 

Worse, he was going to get executed in the middle of it. What a miserable way to go. 

He already wanted touched _far_ more than the situation should’ve let him want touched. 

It was going to be a long and awful night. 

.

.

.

Viktor tried to sleep. It didn’t work. He squeezed his eyes shut and curled up in as tight a ball as he could and tried to think about _anything_ other than how badly he needed someone to come and take care of this problem, but that just led to him thinking about bigger problems and how dead he was and really, really did not help. At least the dragon would’ve just eaten him. He had no idea what these people were going to do. Torture him? Hang him? Cut off his head? 

He really wasn’t coming up with any merciful ideas. 

He laid there for a long time, trying not to think at all, and the night slowly passed. By morning, he felt reasonably calm about dying and also like clawing his skin off just to get relief from the burning _ache_ his heat was bringing on him. It wasn’t actually full heat, not without a sympathetic partner’s pheromones to close the loop, but it was bad enough. He felt like climbing the damn _walls_. 

It was still better than being on the chopping block, he supposed, but of course that didn’t last. Eventually the town guards turned up and dragged him out of his cell. 

“I suppose a trial would be too much to hope for,” Viktor said. 

“You confessed to allying yourself with a dragon in front of the whole town,” one of the guards said, which was a fair enough response. Still— 

“I don’t think that means what you think it means,” Viktor said. The guards were not moved. They dragged him out into the street, which he thought was unnecessary—he could _walk_ , if they’d just unshackle his legs—and took him back towards the center of town. Viktor hoped for a quick beheading. 

He supposed he had been on borrowed time, all things considered. Probably humans would at least bury him somewhere, as opposed to, oh, _devouring_ him. Even an unmarked grave was still a grave, and that was—

They passed a group of townsfolk carrying stacks of firewood. Viktor . . . paused. 

Surely not, he thought. _Surely_ not. 

They reached the center of town, and all the color drained out of his face. 

“You’re going to burn me at the stake,” he said in horrified disbelief, staring at the massive woodpile in front of them. 

“What else would a dragon-collaborator deserve?” one of the guards said. “You’ll suffer the fate you’d have seen us meet, and justice will be done!” 

“I _really_ don’t think you’re thinking this through,” Viktor said, and they dragged him up the pile to the stake and chained him to it. He struggled, because of course he struggled, but it was pointless. 

He’d been resigned to dying for quite some time, but dying in terror and _agony_ . . . 

Maybe the smoke would kill him before the flames, he thought with some small scrap of hope. It might, right? 

They didn’t ask him if he had any last words, or send a reverend to pray at him, or anything else he might’ve expected. They in fact lit the bonfire without preamble and with utter silence from the surrounding crowd, which unsettled him more than anything else had, and then they all watched the flames slowly rise. 

Viktor watched too, his heart in his throat. It was too late to beg for mercy, if he’d even thought that would’ve done any good, and hopeless to try and break free. He could’ve screamed, but somehow he didn’t want to give them the satisfaction. 

He’d be screaming soon enough, anyway. 

The flames crept higher. Viktor squeezed his eyes shut. He didn’t pray, because he never had before and doubted any god that might exist would appreciate it now, but—

But he _wished_ , he supposed. He supposed that was what he was doing. Wished he’d just kept his fool mouth shut, wished they’d landed farther from the town, wished he’s just ridden out his heat alone, wished—wished—

Wished he _weren’t_ alone, stupidly. Viktor had been alone for almost his entire life, and there was no reason to expect to die any differently. 

But he wished it all the same. 

Someone screamed. The stake wobbled, inexplicably, and Viktor’s eyes snapped open and he looked around in confusion. What—

 _I told you humans didn’t know what to do with treasure, Victor,_ the dragon said from its delicate perch atop the top of the stake, wings spread wide and terrible teeth all bared. 

“You!” Viktor said in disbelief, staring up at it. 

_Me,_ the dragon said, and breathed _fire_ into the air above the crowd. The townsfolk screamed. The guards pulled out their swords, and the citizens ran. The dragon’s claws raked through the chains pinning Viktor to the stake, and they fell away in pieces. He grabbed their foreleg reflexively, and the dragon lifted him up and away from the climbing flames. He didn’t know what to think. 

“Don’t hurt anyone,” he said, because there were children in the crowd and for no other reason than that. “Please.” 

_Why shouldn’t I!_ the dragon said scornfully, beating their wings hard enough to fan the flames below. _Such miserable creatures! So weak! So afraid!_

“There are children,” Viktor said, and the dragon looked down at him. 

_You remain an entirely singular creature, my treasure,_ they said, and then crouched down and leapt into the air. The townsfolk kept screaming, and the dragon swooped low over their heads, but didn’t attack. A few guards fired arrows after them, and the dragon swatted them out of the air lazily with their tail. 

“Oh, hell,” Viktor said, clinging for dear life even though the dragon was already holding him tight. 

_Some gratitude,_ the dragon huffed, and then they flew high into the sky and the townsfolk retreated into nothing but little specks below. Viktor was terrified, but he’d been terrified for hours now so this wasn’t much of a change. 

The dragon flew into the clouds, and the clouds—

Changed, strangely. 

They came out the other side, and Viktor saw no sign of the townsfolk below, or even the town itself. 

He did see the house, though it took him a moment to recognize it from the air. 

“What—” he gasped, and the dragon glided lazily down to land in the courtyard. “How—?!” 

_Magic, of course,_ the dragon said dismissively, flicking an arrow out of their tail. _What else, my treasure?_

“Of course,” Viktor echoed incredulously, and then, because he wasn’t actually an ungrateful fuck, “Thank you. How did you even know—?” 

_I heard your wish,_ the dragon said. _Now you are no longer alone._

Viktor laughed, shakily, and sat down hard. He didn’t know what to say. He felt dizzy and weak and could still taste smoke in his mouth, and still felt like he was burning up even though he wasn’t so much as scorched. 

Well, that would be the heat, of course. 

“Thank you,” he said again. “Really. Now I’m just . . . I’m just going to go inside and hide in my bed for a while.” 

_There are no other humans here,_ the dragon said, peering down at him. _It is safe._

“I was more thinking about dealing with my heat,” Viktor said breathlessly, because he was still dazed and overwhelmed and a _very_ strange part of him was burning even hotter than before specifically because of—well—because of—

Because of the _dragon_ , he was almost sure, and that was . . . that was a whole thing, wasn’t it. 

They had saved him and carried him off and even called him “mine” just like a proper alpha would’ve, he supposed, but all the same. They were a _dragon_. 

_Ah, yes,_ the dragon said, leaning down and sniffing at him. Viktor felt an entirely irrational urge to swoon, and all he could think about was how the dragon had been—they’d been taking _care_ of him all this time, hadn’t they. He still couldn’t imagine why they would, but couldn’t deny that was what they’d been doing. _You reek of lust._

“That would be the heat, yes,” Viktor said, squeezing his thighs together for a moment before forcing himself to get to his feet. He wobbled a bit. The dragon nosed him in the shoulder blade and nearly knocked him over, then straightened back up. “I need—to go.” 

_You have no partner,_ the dragon said. 

“I’ll live,” Viktor said. 

_But it will hurt you, yes?_ the dragon said. _It does hurt, doesn’t it?_

“Not like burning alive,” Viktor said, though he could probably draw some comparisons. At least he’d _live_ through this. Suffer a bit, yes, but live. 

_I can partner you,_ the dragon said, and Viktor let all his breath out in a huff. 

“You can’t just _kidnap_ someone,” he said. The dragon frowned. 

_No,_ they said. _I can do it. Certainly no human deserves to, as has been well-proven._

“What?” Viktor asked inanely, and the dragon ducked their head again and . . . and _nuzzled_ him, and suddenly smelled . . . suddenly smelled . . . “What are you doing?” 

_Magic,_ the dragon said. _Obviously._

Viktor . . . blinked. 

_I can change,_ the dragon said, gesturing towards themselves with their tail. _What would you like? A male? A female? An alpha or beta?_

“You don’t have to change,” Viktor said, very aware of how heavily he was breathing, and the dragon’s golden eyes glittered. 

_Don’t I, my treasure?_ they asked, and Viktor clenched his fists and bit the inside of his cheek nearly to the blood. He actually had no idea what the dragon could even do for him, aside from their claims of apparently being able to do _something_ , but the idea of them changing into some other form was not remotely appealing. He wanted the dragon as they were, not some other creature; not some stranger. 

“You don’t,” he repeated, and the dragon curled in close, eyes glittering all the brighter. He was aware of how _big_ they were, all over again. 

_Shall we find you a nest, then?_ the dragon said, and the next thing Viktor knew he was in the kitchen, overheated and breathless and building a nest out of the blankets and mattresses the dragon had brought him that first time. He supposed they didn’t need it, not really, but he felt a little better constructing it all the same. He started a fire in the oven, mostly out of habit. 

He didn’t know what to expect. 

The dragon watched it all from their customary place on the counter with glittering eyes, and Viktor was very, very aware of that fact. 

_Is it enough?_ they said. Viktor wondered how he’d never noticed how godsdamn _sweet_ that voice was before. 

“It’s enough,” he said, stopping by the nest and then, hesitantly, moving to undress. The dragon watched that too, and he didn’t know what to think. He was human, after all; why would a dragon like the sight of him naked? Not even a _young_ human, and one with calloused hands and burn scars from the forge and gray in his hair and beard. 

But the dragon was watching him all the same, and he was very, very aware of that fact. 

He dropped his clothes to the floor. The dragon stepped down from the counter and prowled in closer. Viktor stepped into the nest uncertainly, and the dragon followed him in. They barely fit, but they did fit. 

_Let me,_ the dragon said, and Viktor let them nose between his legs and nuzzle the inside of his bare thighs. He felt awkward and foolish and _desperate_ to be fucked. 

“What are you doing?” he said. 

_Tell me what a human likes,_ the dragon said. 

“Humans like a lot of things,” Viktor said. 

_Tell me what YOU like, my treasure,_ the dragon said, nuzzling him again. _My Victor._

“I . . . several things,” Viktor said. The dragon’s scaled skin rubbing up against his was making it hard to think. He’d felt it before, but never anywhere so intimate. The dragon pushed their head into the small of his back, and he shuddered. “If you . . . I don’t know if you can use your mouth, or . . .” 

_I can use my mouth,_ the dragon said, and licked a hot, wet stripe up the back of his thigh and underneath the curve of his ass. Heat pooled in Viktor’s stomach and shot up his spine, and he braced a hand on the wall before he could fall over like he was—like he was _new_ or something, like he’d never been touched in his _life_. 

This was certainly a different way than he’d ever been touched before, though. 

“That’s good,” he managed. The dragon did it again, and Viktor bit down on the back of his hand to stifle a cry. “Between my—between—” 

He didn’t manage to get the sentence out, but that was mostly because the dragon was already doing it. They dragged their long, strange tongue up between his legs and he choked, gasping for breath. 

_More of that?_ the dragon asked. 

_”Yes,”_ Viktor said. 

The dragon listened. They licked him there again, making a curious noise, and Viktor felt like he’d never been wetter in his _life_. Their tongue was so strange, so different from what he was used to, but it felt so _good_ , hot and thick and pressed in tight against his body. He spread his thighs further, and the dragon licked in deeper and Viktor barely kept back the reflexive shout. 

_Here, yes?_ the dragon said, and flexed their tongue against his hole. Viktor nodded frantically, pressing his forehead to the cold stone wall and biting the back of his hand again. The dragon made a sound that was very like a purr, and it _vibrated_ through him. Viktor bit down so hard he was surprised he couldn’t taste blood, and his knees trembled. 

The dragon licked him again, then pushed their tongue inside him. He gasped in shock, fingers digging into the wall. It wasn’t a cock, but it felt like one—if a cock could flex and twist like that, if a cock were that slick and hot, if a cock were—

The dragon flexed their tongue again, worming in deeper, and Viktor _shook_. He was trying to keep quiet, trying not to sound too desperate or stupid or foolish, but he’d been heated up enough and now there was someone who smelled like _that_ touching him, someone who’d protected him, someone who’d taken care of and _kept_ him, and he—and he just— 

“Like that,” he pleaded quietly, and the dragon’s tongue spread him open further, the tapered end flicking inside him and the rest of it thicker and bigger and filling him up. It wasn’t thrusting or grinding, but the way it moved was so _much_ all the same, and he had to put both hands on the wall to stay upright. He was shaking. He wanted to beg, but couldn’t let himself. 

The dragon curled their tongue, and Viktor _shouted_. The dragon leaned into him, breath hot and heavy against the back of his thighs and weight pressing him forward against the wall, claws wrapping around his ankle, and Viktor buried his face in the stone and felt his hole dripping slick onto the other’s tongue. He squirmed—couldn’t help it—and the dragon curled their tongue again, so big and fat inside him and _so_ close to feeling like a knot. He didn’t feel like he was keeping himself upright at all anymore; like it was all the dragon and nothing else. 

The dragon curled their tongue one more time and Viktor came all over it without so much as _touching_ his cock. His vision went hazy and he panted for breath, trying to find words. None were forthcoming. 

The dragon kept _licking_ him. 

“Hold—hold—” he tried to say, but he couldn’t get the words out and the dragon _just kept licking_. He whimpered and clawed at the wall, hips bucking without his consent. The dragon pressed in closer. 

He was going to _boil_ , it felt like, but what he actually did was come again, deeper and quicker and more intense than before, so much so that his oversensitive body could barely handle it. He moaned helplessly, struggling against the wall and reaching down to grab at the dragon’s tongue. He meant to pull it out, but all he could do was try to grip it. It was too big, too wet with saliva and his own slick, and he couldn’t hold it. The dragon didn’t seem to realize what he was trying to do and just kept eating him out. He tried to speak, but still couldn’t find the words, and his hips kept bucking greedily for more, like his body wasn’t listening to him at all. 

His body _wasn’t_ listening to him at all. 

Heat, he thought hazily, and cried out again as the dragon somehow managed to lick in even deeper. He was going to come again. Was he going to come again? He’d already come _twice_ , he wasn’t—he couldn’t—he—

He came again, this time _wailing_ with it as his vision went white and body gave out, and the dragon finally, _finally_ pulled back, to Viktor’s relief. He collapsed onto the mattress with a weak moan, body still shaking, and the dragon leaned over him and nosed at his hair. 

_Was that right?_ they asked. Viktor would’ve laughed, if he’d had _any_ breath to. That’d been right, yes. That’d been _too_ right, and he didn’t know if even his heat could keep up with a dragon. He needed—a minute, just a minute. Then he could tell the dragon all that. 

He managed to get a hand against the mattress and pushed himself up just a bit before his arms gave out and his face went right back into the blankets. His whole body felt hot, and the dragon’s body felt even hotter above him. 

“More,” he slurred, because _heat_ and because he was crazy, and stupid, and barely holding it together. 

The dragon made a pleased noise and licked him again. Viktor whined. But—

 _“More,”_ he said again, insistent and reflexive, and dug his knees into the mattress and tilted his hips up. The dragon purred, and his whole body jerked at the vibration. “More, more, _more_ , I need more, I need it, get in me fucking _breed_ me give me _more_ —!” 

_Oh,_ the dragon said, sounding pleasantly surprised. _I can do that._

“ _Do_ it!” Viktor begged, and the dragon shifted behind him and lifted their head, scooting up to cover his body with their own, and he opened his mouth to protest, to whine, to _insist_ —

Something hot and hard pressed against his hole, and he stilled. 

_Like this?_ the dragon said, and pushed their cock in. Viktor choked. The head was tapered, small and effortlessly manageable, but that taper widened out very, _very_ quickly and spread him wider than he’d ever been spread in his _life_. 

“That’s—that’s so big,” he stammered stupidly, and the dragon purred. 

_Humans like big, yes?_ they said, planting their claws on the back of his shoulder and leaning in. Their cock pushed in even deeper, and Viktor _moaned_. 

“Move,” he managed roughly, digging his nails into the mattress, helplessly pushing back against the dragon’s weight. “You have to, you have to, I need you to _move_!” 

_Like this?_ the dragon said, and _thrust_. 

Viktor _shrieked_. 

“Yes yes _yes_ don’t stop don’t stop oh _gods_ don’t stop!” he wailed, clawing at the mattress, and the dragon didn’t stop. They leaned forward over him and thrust again, and again, and again, and they smelled so good and they _felt_ so good and Viktor was going to _die_ , for real this time, this was going to be the time, oh gods, oh gods, oh oh _oh_ — 

The dragon purred again, leaning down to lick at his throat with that long, agile tongue. Viktor kept shrieking; couldn’t stop. He said some things, probably, but he had no idea what they were. All he could think about was the dragon’s cock, big and hot and moving so effortlessly inside him, more than he’d ever taken before but so easy to take all the same, filling him up so completely in a way he’d never, ever felt and just absolutely _devastating_ him. He was trying to move with it, trying to get as much of it as he could, but the dragon was weighing him down with the claws on his back and all he could do was beg for it. 

“Please!” he cried desperately, trying to push up as much as he could, but the dragon just kept weighing him down and thrusting at their own pace, so deep and so good but so _slow_. “Faster, faster, please faster, I wanna come, let me come, oh _please_!” 

_Of course you may come, my treasure,_ the dragon said without changing their pace at all, and Viktor did: came so hard and so fast that it _blinded_ him, left him gasping and choking into the mattress, and— 

And the dragon didn’t stop fucking him, because of course they didn’t. Of course they wouldn’t. 

“Dragon,” Viktor begged senselessly, too overwhelmed to protest his oversensitivity or try to worm away or anything like that. The dragon kept thrusting inside him, filling him up to the brim, to fullness, to far past what he’d ever have thought he could’ve taken, much less taken so _easily_. It wasn’t even hard; didn’t even require any effort or strain. He was too wet, too turned on, too _needy_ , and the dragon slid home time and again, just like they belonged there. 

_My Victor,_ the dragon crooned, nuzzling the nape of his neck. Viktor felt like he was going to come again; wasn’t sure he wasn’t _still_ coming, that he’d ever _stopped_ coming. 

“Dragon, dragon, dragon,” he panted for lack of a name, hands fisting in the sheets, and the dragon fucked him and fucked him and _fucked_ him, merciless and easy and so, so brutal. Viktor’d never felt like this during a heat. A normal heat was just a favor someone was doing him, a quick and business-like exchange, but _this_ . . . “Oh, oh, _OH_ —” 

The dragon nuzzled him again. He came again. He tried to figure out how long a dragon could last. The other hadn’t shown any signs of slowing down, or even coming _close_ to coming. 

The moment he thought that, though, it was the only thing he wanted. 

“Inside me,” Viktor said. “I need—I need you to come inside me, I need it, I need it, fill me up, fuck me harder, give me your pups, _breed_ me!” 

It was something he’d never asked of another heat partner, because of course it was always just a favor being done, a brief and temporary thing that didn’t mean anything—so of course he’d ask it now, with the one partner who absolutely _couldn’t_ do it. He couldn’t help himself, though, and couldn’t bring himself to try to. It felt too good, and the dragon _was_ too good, and—and—

 _Of course, my treasure,_ the dragon purred, and just a few thrusts later Viktor felt them coming inside him, filling him up all over again, so much so that he couldn’t even hold it all. He moaned, body quaking. The dragon nuzzled him again, weighing him down even heavier into the mattresses and breathing heavily in his ear. 

“Oh,” he managed, barely. 

_Good?_ the dragon murmured, and Viktor _squirmed_ underneath them. It was good, yes, it was _so_ good, but—

“I need to _come_ ,” he whined, and the dragon made an understanding sound and pulled back. Viktor could’ve fucking _cried_ , but then their tongue was inside him again, curling like a knot, and he was too busy moaning, sweating and aching and _desperate_ and—

He came again, shaking, and collapsed onto the mattress. The dragon curled up around him, humming contentedly to themselves. Viktor was too exhausted to speak, or look at them, or do anything but lay there in a wrecked heap and sleep. 

It was the best he could remember feeling in a long, long time. 

.

.

.

 _How long is a human heat?_ the dragon asked, after some time. Viktor cracked open an eye, grudgingly disturbing the warm buzz of satiation rolling through his heavy, worn-out body. 

“It depends,” he said, shifting over to lay his head on the dragon’s flank. Why not, he thought. It was comfortable. “A day or so, usually. Longer without a partner. Shorter if you get bred.” 

_I see,_ the dragon hummed, and nuzzled him again. Viktor returned the gesture this time and nearly got poked in the eye with a horn, but still considered it worth it. The next wave of his heat would be rising any time, though, and he wanted to rest before it. He should probably get some water too, and clean up a bit, and find something to eat, and—

The dragon nuzzled him again. Something in Viktor melted, and he leaned into the contact. 

He could worry about the rest of it later, he thought. 

_I told you I would have a fine, fine hoard, my treasure,_ the dragon said smugly, and Viktor still didn’t understand, but didn’t mind at all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for dancinbutterfly, who wanted more of this story. May continue later; we’ll just have to see.

Viktor ate two bites of breakfast and spent the rest of the morning throwing up, which was . . . not a good thing. 

Obviously. 

_What are you DOING?_ the dragon asked, sounding baffled. 

“Leave me alone,” Viktor said sourly, and went back to bed. 

.

.

.

The dragon left him alone for all of an hour before Viktor could feel their golden eyes on him from the kitchen door. He determinedly burrowed deeper into his bed. He still felt sick, and he had no intention of leaving it anytime soon. The dragon would sulk, probably, but the dragon sulked when he refused to eat raw meat or was doing chores when they wanted attention or just didn’t like whatever they’d brought back from their latest trip to . . . wherever, exactly, it was that they got the things that they got for him. 

His cycle was late, which was probably why he felt sick, though it’d been years since he’d had a cycle bad enough to actually make him _sick_. Maybe he was finally old enough that it was getting ready to stop coming, he halfheartedly hoped. His last one had been short, after all, and that would be nice; one less useless annoyance in his life, plus more time to fix up the house and garden and stable and grounds. 

_Are you still mad?_ the dragon said from the doorway. Viktor glanced heavenwards for strength. Gods save him from his own taste in lovers, he thought. 

“Yes,” he said. “Go away.” 

_Go AWAY?_ the dragon said, sounding offended. 

“You heard me,” Viktor said. He’d never been the sort to seek comfort in other people, and the dragon wasn’t an exception just because they were a dragon and happened to have saved his life once. “I’m sick. I don’t want to be around anyone.” 

_Sick?_ the dragon said warily. 

“Yes.” Viktor pulled a pillow over his head. The dragon had been bringing him a lot of bedding lately. The bed was beginning to resemble . . . well, a hoard. Viktor could use less of the bedding, of course, but it was comfortable. He’d never had more than one pillow before, and found it baffling that it’d never occurred to him to have more. Especially for nesting. 

_You don’t smell sick,_ the dragon said. Viktor made a disbelieving noise and lifted his head to stare at the other. 

“Are you _arguing_ with the way I puked up half my guts this morning?” he demanded incredulously. 

_. . . no?_

“You are!” 

_It’s not MY fault you don’t smell sick._

“Get out!” Viktor threw a pillow at them. He was too nauseous for this. The dragon made an offended noise, but retreated. 

Viktor scowled at the empty doorway, not actually feeling any better, then burrowed down in his bed again. 

.

.

.

Viktor felt better by the afternoon, and assumed something about breakfast had just disagreed with him. Until the next day, anyway, when he had an entirely different breakfast but _also_ spent the morning throwing up. 

Maybe he’d been a bit quick to assume he was recovered, then. 

_Victor?_ the dragon said, poking their head into the kitchen. Viktor seriously considered throwing a pillow at them again, but he didn’t want to have to get up and retrieve it after. He felt better, finally, but still didn’t want to leave his bed at all. 

“Still sick,” he said. “Still don’t want to be around anyone.” 

_Do you need medicine? Humans need that, yes?_ the dragon said doubtfully, slinking into the room and leaning over him. Viktor glared up at them for a moment, then burrowed deeper into the pillows. 

“No,” he said irritably, waving the other off. He just wanted to sleep this off. “I’m fine. Just leave me alone.” 

_Mm,_ the dragon said, but they left him alone. 

.

.

.

Viktor woke up feeling better and tripped over the two dead elk outside the kitchen door, which was far too much meat and clearly meant the dragon was overcompensating. He sighed, and went to butchering them. He was annoyed, still, but it was hard to be at the same time. The dragon was clearly trying to make him feel better, so he couldn’t exactly be _mad_. 

Well, he could. And he would, if they were too pushy about it. 

Still. 

“I can’t eat all this, you realize,” he called out the door after he’d taken what he could of the meat and filled both the oven and the stewpot to bursting. The dragon landed in front of the door, eyeing him warily. 

_I will eat the rest, obviously,_ they said, which they usually did do, so Viktor supposed that would be fine. He didn’t like the idea of wasting so much food. He was going to have to figure out how to smoke things, maybe, or make jerky. 

“All yours,” he said, gesturing at the elks’ remains. 

_Delicious,_ the dragon said, licking their chops. Viktor was immediately reminded of just how . . . _useful_ that tongue could be. 

“Ideally, yes,” he said, ignoring his stupid libido, which really needed to develop a better sense of timing. The dragon huffed steam, then went to tearing into the elk. They ate much more quickly than Viktor was used to seeing, still. 

_You smell like lust,_ they said, licking their chops again, and Viktor couldn’t really argue. There was only one reason he could imagine the dragon having pointed that out, though. 

“I’m sick, and _you_ want to mount me,” he said anyway, exasperated. 

_You don’t smell sick,_ the dragon said, eyes glittering. _You smell delicious, my Victor_. 

Viktor was _not_ that easy, dammit. 

.

.

.

“Fuck,” Viktor gasped as the dragon’s long, clever tongue dragged up over his hole and curled around his cock. The dragon purred and it rumbled straight through him, and he _felt_ the rush of slick drip out of him. He grabbed the dragon’s horns, not sure if he was trying to push them away or pull them closer or just steady himself. The dragon purred louder, then licked him again, and again, and again, and— 

Viktor came, of course, and came _hard_ , knocking his head back against the mattress and seeing stars behind his eyes. The dragon lumbered up over his shuddering body as he was trying to recover, and Viktor bit his lip and looked down at their heavy, neglected cock. He reached down and wrapped a hand around it the best he could, and the dragon hissed, their wings flaring. 

Viktor stroked. The dragon knocked something off the counter with a wing, but he wasn’t really worried about it. Probably the dragon had intended to fuck him—that was what they usually did, the handful of times they’d done this—but he’d still never really explored their cock in much detail, so . . . 

“Stay there,” he said roughly, and then he stroked harder and faster, feeling out all the places that set the dragon off the most. The job took both hands, but it worked, and they came all over his chest and stomach in big, messy, _filthy_ spurts. “Oh!” 

_OH,_ the dragon groaned, wings trembling, and then they licked him clean with wide, sweeping drags of their tongue. Viktor reacted naturally, and by “naturally” he meant “by getting very, very turned on again”. The dragon nuzzled his stomach, then dragged their tongue up over his chest. His nipples peaked eagerly at the attention, somehow feeling even more sensitive than usual, and the dragon flicked the tip of their tongue over them. Viktor _moaned_. 

He probably wasn’t very subtle about how good it felt, because the dragon kept licking around and across them. Viktor jerked under the treatment, and the dragon pinned him in place by wrapping gentle but inexorable talons around his arm and then just took their time licking his chest and lapping at his nipples and making him so fucking sensitive that he was left gasping at every little touch. 

“Hurry up,” he managed, thighs shaking. 

_So impatient, my treasure,_ the dragon replied smugly, and licked his chest again. Viktor moaned, and they did it again, and he moaned louder, and then they just—kept— _doing it_ — 

“Fuck!” he choked, and the dragon flicked their tongue in a way that had his eyes rolling back in his head. “I said hurry _up_ , didn’t I?!” 

_And I said you were impatient, didn’t I,_ the dragon crooned, and Viktor didn’t _think_ he could come like this, but . . . 

“Bastard,” he panted, free hand going to his cock to rub it, and the dragon dragged their tongue again and Viktor came with a hoarse cry, arching up into the other. “Gods!” 

The dragon let go of his arm as he was shaking and aching and _trembling_ and flipped him over without another moment’s preamble, and Viktor hit the mattress on his stomach with a gasp and the dragon immediately thrust their tongue inside his dripping hole. Viktor _yelled_. The dragon fucked him, curled their tongue inside him so it felt like a knot, and Viktor scrabbled desperately at the sheets and shoved back into them. He got a hand on his cock again, but it barely mattered; the dragon’s tongue was just so big and thick and filling him up so _perfectly_ — 

He came again. 

The dragon didn’t stop fucking him. 

Viktor could’ve told them to, but no, that was the _last_ thing he was going to do. He rubbed and stroked his cock and pushed his hips back into the dragon’s tongue and buried a yowl in the nearest pillow, and the dragon fucked him until he came again. Viktor reflexively tried to lock their curled tongue, and moaned in disappointment as they reclaimed it. 

The dragon shifted up over his body again, and this time he lifted his hips and tilted them to present his well-fucked hole, and the dragon’s cock dragged heavily against it. Viktor bit down on the pillow, groping backwards to guide the other’s cock into himself, and the moment he did the dragon pushed forward and split him open _wide_. He would’ve yowled again, but that would’ve required being able to breathe. He was pretty sure he _could_ breathe, just right now he really, really could not remember how to. 

The dragon fucked him with short, rough thrusts, the tapered end of their cock pressing deep inside him, and Viktor clawed at the pillows and sheets and _tried_ to move back into it, but mostly just did the best he could not to collapse outright under the assault. He got back enough breath to make noise, and the breathy little yips that kept escaping his mouth were like nothing he’d ever heard himself make before. 

It felt so good. It felt _so good_. Viktor had no idea how to even fucking _process_ how good it felt, it was just—so much, so fast, so _intense_ — 

He keened, hooking his hands around the dragon’s forelegs in an attempt to better brace himself, and the dragon fucked him deeper, and he came without even touching his cock again. 

“Don’t stop, don’t stop!” he gasped out, and the dragon didn’t. Viktor dug his nails in against the other’s scales and let out the kind of needy, pleading noises he’d usually only let himself make in heat, and the dragon nuzzled his throat and fucked him _just_ shy of too hard, too deep, too fast. “Oh, oh gods!” 

_My treasure,_ the dragon hummed lowly, and Viktor clung tighter to them. The dragon was overwhelming, every time, and Viktor couldn’t pretend he didn’t like them that way. He’d never had a lover like them before, intense enough to block out everything else in the world and so careful but so unstoppable at the same time. The dragon could crack stone but had barely even bruised him even after all these times, never so much as scratched his skin, and he’d found himself thinking about that more than once. 

He was thinking about it right now, as the dragon fucked him hard enough that he knew he’d be feeling it tomorrow and breathed steam into the air. 

“Dragon,” Viktor gasped out, and the dragon licked his throat. 

_Come for me, my Victor_ they said, and of course he did. 

.

.

.

They spent the rest of the day in bed, ‘til Viktor was limp and exhausted and could barely even move. Keeping up with a dragon half his age took everything he had, and the dragon was still never anywhere near as tired as he was after. Viktor wanted to do more for them, honestly, but the dragon seemed content. 

“Gods, you’re impossible,” he groaned weakly, turning his face into the mattress. The dragon curled around him and nuzzled his stomach. 

_Certainly not,_ they said. _Just, perhaps, slightly unlikely._ Viktor snorted, laying a heavy hand on the other’s head. The dragon nuzzled him again, then licked speculatively at his chest. 

“Too much,” Viktor grumbled, pushing them back. The dragon let him, then curled up tighter. Viktor shifted, and the dragon put their tail under his head like a pillow, though it was nowhere near that comfortable. Viktor was too exhausted to move, even with the slight discomfort. 

_My treasures,_ the dragon rumbled. Viktor half-opened his eyes to look at them. 

"Yes, dear," he said dryly, patting the dragon's flank. Then he frowned. Wait. "'Treasures'?" 

_Yes,_ the dragon repeated like they thought he'd just misheard them, which . . . no, he had definitely not. 

"Why treasures _plural_?" Viktor asked, frowning at them. The dragon tilted their head, looking puzzled. 

_Because there are two of you,_ they said. Viktor had a long moment of blankness, and then—

"Am I fucking _pregnant_?!" he demanded. The dragon blinked at him. 

_Yes,_ they said. _Of course._

"What do you mean _of course_?!" 

_You asked me to breed you,_ the dragon said. 

"Oh gods," Viktor said in horror, sitting up. "You can _do that_?!" 

_Of course!_ the dragon said, preening smugly. _I am a dragon, am I not?_

"Oh _gods_ ," Viktor repeated, just staring at them disbelievingly. He must be dreaming. The dragon must be _joking_. He couldn't possibly be—

Gods. 

_Gods_. 

He grabbed his stomach. Was it bigger? He wasn't sure. He didn't pay that much attention to his stomach. He felt like throwing up. 

. . . like he had been for the past two mornings. 

Fuck. 

“You bred me!” he said. The dragon looked puzzled again. 

_Yes,_ they said. _Like you asked_. 

“I was in heat!” Viktor said, turning red. “People say things like that in heat! I didn’t think you could actually _do_ it! Oh gods, is it going to be an egg?!” 

_It’s going to be a dragon,_ the dragon replied patiently. _Obviously._

“That’s not an answer!” 

_I don’t know if there’ll be an egg,_ the dragon said, tilting its head. _I’ve never bred someone before._

“Oh _gods_ ,” Viktor said, burying his face in his hands. This was what he got for shacking up with a dragon that was only just old enough to be shacking up with. Of course the dragon didn’t know. Why would they? That’d only be _useful_! “Omegas can die in childbirth, you know! It happens all the time! An egg might kill me!” 

_They can?_ The dragon looked alarmed. _Why would you ask to be bred, then?_

“Because I was _stupid_!” Viktor said, getting to his feet to pace. It couldn’t actually be an egg, he reasoned; his body wasn’t designed to _make_ an egg. Except his body also wasn’t designed to get bred by a _dragon_ , either, and who knew what magic might do? “I can’t do this. I’ve never been pregnant. I don’t know _how_ to be pregnant!” 

_You ARE pregnant,_ the dragon said. _I think the “how” is covered._

“Gods,” Viktor said again, dragging a hand down his face. “Pregnant. By a dragon! A _stupid_ dragon!” 

_Hey!_ The dragon looked offended. 

“There’s a difference between sex talk and what people actually _want_ , you idiot!” Viktor said. 

_You asked!_ the dragon said, still clearly offended. _Repeatedly! Of course I was going to do it!_

“It was sex talk!” Viktor fumed. “Not _real_!” 

_You wanted it!_ the dragon said, scowling at him. _I always get you what you want, don’t I?_

“Fuck,” Viktor said, then buried his face in his hands again. This was his fault. He should’ve known. Of course he should’ve known. The dragon was _magic_ , after all. Who even knew what they could do if they wanted to. And of _course_ they’d be stupid enough to listen to him when he was out of his mind with heat. Of course they wouldn’t know better. “How am I supposed to do this by myself?” 

_You’re not,_ the dragon said, nudging at the back of his hands. _I’m here, aren’t I?_

Viktor was a little touched, for a second, but—

“You don’t even know if it’s an _egg_ , what help are you going to be?” he demanded accusingly. 

_I can find out,_ the dragon said primly, drawing itself up. _Obviously._

“How?” Viktor said. “From _who_?” 

_. . . I can find that out too._

“Dragon!” 

_Victor?_

Viktor made a frustrated noise and threw his hands up. The dragon watched him, clearly still puzzled. 

_You won’t die,_ they said. _I won’t let you._

“That’s a very nice sentiment, but if I get clawed to death from the inside there’s not going to be much you can do, is there?” Viktor said. “And you have horns! What if it has horns?!” 

_Of course it will,_ the dragon said. _Dragons all have horns._

Viktor gave them a horrified look. Maybe an egg wouldn’t be so bad, he thought. Better than _horns_ , at least. 

“I’m human!” he said. “How did you think that was going to work out?!” 

_. . . er,_ the dragon said, unhelpfully. Viktor buried his face in his hands yet again. Gods save him, again, from his own taste in lovers. _Literally_ , this time. 

“You're an idiot!” he said. " _I'm_ an idiot!" 

_You're being very dramatic,_ the dragon said. 

"I'm being very dramatic about possibly _dying_?!" 

_Yes._

Viktor grabbed a pillow and threw it at the dragon's face. The dragon dodged, then made an offended noise. 

_You won't die,_ they said, tail lashing. _I would never hurt you, my Victor._

"Having a _baby_ hurts!" Viktor yelled at them. 

_How?_ the dragon said, looking worried. 

"It's gross and painful and _dangerous_ ," Viktor said. Admittedly he was not an expert on the process, but he knew enough from what he'd heard and overheard over the years. 

Exactly enough to know how little he actually knew, to be specific. 

"Can't you—I don't know, undo it?" he said. 

_Yes,_ the dragon said. _Do you want me to?_

Viktor was about to shout at them for being an idiot again because _of course_ he did, but . . . 

But something about actually being asked made him actually _think_ about it, he supposed, and instead he . . . paused. 

"I don't know," he said. 

_Perhaps let's start there, then,_ the dragon said. _You did want bred, didn't you?_

"No," Viktor said, his face burning. "I'm not that kind of omega." 

_What kind of omega?_ the dragon said doubtfully. _There are different kinds?_

“Wh—no, that’s not what I meant,” Viktor said. “I’m just . . . not the mating kind.” 

_What does mating have to do with it?_ the dragon said. 

“Nothing,” Viktor said, his face still burning. “Just—they go together, usually.” 

_Do you want a mate?_

“No,” Viktor said immediately, because he didn’t want the dragon trying to do something like that just to please him. They didn’t understand. They just liked giving him things he wanted, for whatever reason they liked doing anything. Like they were taking care of a pet, not . . . 

Besides, they’d probably just go _kidnap_ somebody, knowing them. 

_Then why should it matter if you’re not the mating kind?_ the dragon asked. 

“It doesn’t,” Viktor lied. “I’m just—not that kind of omega.” 

_That makes no more sense,_ the dragon said. Viktor felt like his face was on fire. 

“It’s a human thing, okay?” he said. “Don’t worry about it.” 

_It sounds like a human thing,_ the dragon said. _Only humans make so little sense._

“Mm.” Viktor looked away, frowning to himself. It wasn't . . . 

Forget it. It was stupid, expecting the dragon to understand this. Any of this. 

"This is stupid," he said, shaking his head. “Even if it weren’t dangerous, I’d be a horrible parent. I can’t raise a pup. I definitely can’t raise a _dragon_.” 

_Why not?_ the dragon said, looking puzzled. 

"Because I'd be a horrible parent, were you not listening?" Viktor said. He wasn't the maternal type, and he'd never spent much time around children. He'd never even _watched_ a child. Nobody had ever expected him to. 

He wasn't the type, after all. 

_Is this another human thing?_ the dragon said. 

"This is an _obvious_ thing," Viktor said. "I don't know how to do any of this. I've never _done_ any of this." 

_Then how do you know you'd be horrible at it?_ the dragon asked. 

"Because it's obvious!" Viktor said, his face burning. "Obviously!" 

_I don't see how,_ the dragon said. Viktor threw his hands up. 

"It just is!" he snapped. 

_Do you want me to find out if it will be an egg or not?_ the dragon said. _Will that help?_

". . . yes," Viktor said uncomfortably. He didn't like the idea of getting rid of a pup just because he was scared, especially if he was potentially being scared of nothing. If it _was_ likely to kill him, that was one thing, but . . . "Please." 

_Then I will,_ the dragon said, nuzzling his stomach again. _In the morning, of course. For now you must sleep, my Victor._

"You are incredibly optimistic about my capacity to sleep in this situation," Viktor said. 

_You'd best,_ the dragon said, wrapping their tail around him and tugging him down against their side again. Viktor went with it, grudgingly. _It’s better for the hatchling._

"You said you didn't know if it was going to be an egg!" Viktor accused. 

_I don't_ the dragon said. _But I know it will be a dragon._

"I don’t even know if I believe you know _that_ ," Viktor grumbled, and the dragon hummed, then nuzzled him one more time. 

_Sleep, my Victor,_ they said. _The rest can wait for tomorrow._

“Fine,” Viktor said with a sigh, grudgingly patting the dragon’s head and settling in more comfortably. Even if it _was_ an egg, waiting a day to figure things out wasn’t going to kill him. 

Hopefully. 

Well, if it did, he was blaming the dragon. 

“You really better have somebody to ask about this,” he said. 

_There’s nothing to worry about,_ the dragon said. 

“. . . that wasn’t a ‘yes’.” 

_. . . there’s nothing to worry about._

“Dragon!” 

_Victor._

Viktor sighed in frustration, dropping his head back against the dragon’s side. That was . . . very annoying. To put it mildly. 

“You can definitely fix it if you have to, though?” he checked again. 

_If I have to,_ the dragon agreed. 

“Good.” Viktor folded his arms, staring up at the ceiling. He wasn’t sure if he felt better or not, but . . . well, at least he knew the dragon could fix it, if it came to it. There were worse situations to be in. 

He tried to picture a dragon hatchling, but he really couldn’t imagine what one would look like and just ended up picturing a miniaturized version of the dragon, which was probably not accurate. Kind of adorable, as a thought, but probably not accurate. 

He’d think it was cuter if he weren’t worried about it clawing up his insides, probably. 

He did wonder what a hatchling would be like, though. Would it be like a human child at all? And how long would it take to grow up? He probably wouldn’t even _live_ long enough to see it grow up, given a dragon’s apparent lifespan. That was . . . a thought, that he was having. 

Viktor’s parents had both died when he was still a child. 

Well. It didn’t matter, really. The dragon would be able to take care of the hatchling no matter how young it still was when Viktor died. 

Assuming he could even carry it. Assuming he _did_ even carry it. Assuming . . . 

A hatchling was probably nothing like a pup. A pup would just be some sweet, fat little thing with big eyes and a sweet scent and probably a terrible disposition, considering who its parents would be. Viktor wasn’t sure he’d be any less scared of a pup, though, if it came to it. 

He just wasn’t this type of omega. That was all. He wouldn’t know what to do with any kind of baby, dragon or human or something else entirely. He wasn’t sure he’d ever even _held_ a baby before, and he’d definitely never been left in _charge_ of one, and . . . and he could go on for a while, really, and wouldn’t be able to do anything about any of it until tomorrow anyway. 

It was just . . . later problems. These were all later problems. Right now the dragon was right, and he should just be sleeping. He was worn-out enough for it, and everything else could wait. 

In the end, Viktor spent a long time staring at the ceiling, feeling the dragon breathe beneath him. Eventually, though, he fell asleep with a hand on his stomach, thinking about tiny, tiny dragons and fat little pups and trying to figure out how someone even held one, anyway. 

He wondered if its eyes would be golden like the dragon’s, if he had it. 

He wondered if it’d like him.

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr!](http://suzukiblu.tumblr.com/)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] to the victor go the spoils](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28215804) by [xan_reads (xancredible)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xancredible/pseuds/xan_reads)




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